That Leather Jacket
by SupernovaDancer
Summary: Rose has adopted a familiar article of clothing, but will it give her the personality of its owner as well as his appearance? Post-Doomsday. Rated T to be really, extremely, unreasonably safe.
1. That Leather Jacket

_A/N: Rated T to be extremely safe, nothing really happens to make it so…there's some kissing, but not a lot, and nothing else that would take it past K…anyway…I've been forgetting to say this, but I don't own Doctor Who._

That Leather Jacket

"Rose, it's just odd!"

"I just like it, okay!"

"You look just like him. You could _be_ him!"

"Mum, I can wear whatever I want!"

"It's creepy! It looks just like the one he wore – the first him. It could be the very one!"

"I bought it from parallel Clive. He's skinnier in this universe, it fit well. I bought it. Leave me alone."

Rose folded her arms, the look on her face decidedly dangerous. She _liked_ this beat-up leather jacket.

"I don't think it's healthy – it's like wearing dead people's clothes! It's weird! I know you're hurt, but this is not the right way to heal. We can help you…"

"Mum! I like it. It's just a jacket, okay? It's a piece of clothing. Get over it!"

"Fine...but it's so weird!"

"Mum!"

Rose sighed. Her mother had been so oppressive since Bad Wolf Bay…the amount of times she had wanted to do nothing more than slap her and run away were quickly becoming innumerable.

She did see her mum's point, though, just in a different way. When he had lost everything, he had hidden himself in a leather jacket, given himself a second skin against a cruel universe. That was all she wanted. It also did remind her of him, but not in a way she found creepy. It sort of smelled like him, and it made her remember. It hurt her to remember, but every time she considered taking it off, she decided it would be a thousand times worse to forget. She didn't want to lose a single moment.

Maybe pairing the jacket with heavy boots and black pants had been a step too far, but…well, at least she hadn't started wearing jumpers. Or speaking with a Northern accent. That, she had to concede, would have been weird.

Plus she was rubbish with accents.

Oh, that day with the werewolf…she started to laugh out of nowhere, her mother, who had still been eyeing the offending article of clothing with distaste, jumped and gave her a reproachful glare.

"Mum…" Rose choked out, trying to breathe "Did you know…Queen Victoria was a werewolf?"

"What? Rose, you need to get more sleep."

"No…'s true…"

"I'm sure. How's about a snack and a cup of tea?"

Her mum had launched into 'my daughter is just tired, not mentally unhinged' mode – used a lot lately – and was bustling about accordingly.

Rose accepted the cup a few minutes later, sipping it tentatively. She remembered…well, that day. "She's very good at tea. Well, I say very good – I mean not bad. Well, I say not bad…" She had loved that particular style of rambling. The memory burned almost as badly as the tea, but she grinned anyway, and, though she didn't notice, frightened Jackie with her manic expression. She hauled the fruit bowl across the counter, perused the contents for a moment, and selected a banana. Munching happily, she thought of World War II, Captain Jack, and hanging from a barrage balloon with a Union Jack emblazoned on her chest. There had been a slight incident at Torchwood last week with an over-curious intern, gasoline, vinegar, an egg, and an object of alien tech – everyone was fine, but the building had had to be evacuated, and gas masks had been provided. No one understood why their strange, reserved new team member had walked around querying "Mummy? Mummy? Are you there, mummy? Are you my mummy?" in a high-pitched, childlike voice, but no one had bothered to ask. Mickey just assumed it was one more remembered adventure – he, too, had taken to ignoring her.

He, himself, had just walked in, bringing with him his new girlfriend – Mary? Marty? Marta? – something like that. She was a medical student or something, maybe a nurse. She was very pretty, there was no doubt about that. But…ugh, they were kissing. Right in front of her. Lovely.

Now he was introducing her to her mum…blah, blah, blah…medical student, she was right…blah, blah, blah…avid hiker…blah, blah, blah…stay for dinner?

And they were kissing again. Without thinking, she growled "Could we keep the domestics outside, please?" and laid her head down on her arms.

A moment later she sat up straight as if electrified, eyes wide in shock, with one hand clapped over her mouth.


	2. That Pinstriped Suit

**A/N: So, you know when I said this story was complete? I lied. I guess I'm going to do the same thing I did last time, and just apologize for being lazy and having homework and dance and a cold and all of the numerous, myriad ****things that have prevented me from updating or posting anything new. But things are winding down now, and I should be having a lot more free time right up until midterms. Anyway, here is the long-awaited sequel to That Leather Jacket**** (well, awaited by me). Enjoy!**

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><p>That Pinstriped Suit<p>

"Better?"

"Not really!"

"Mum…"

"In fact, I think it's worse!"

"God, you're never satisfied!"

"Just because you've switched your outfit doesn't mean the concept doesn't still apply!"

Rose scowled at her mother.

"Stop it. I'm going to reiterate quickly, because you apparently didn't catch it last time – I can wear whatever I want, leave me alone, Queen Victoria was a werewolf. That was our last conversation, original points would be much appreciated, I'm late for work, so please make it quick, I don't know if that's possible, honestly, you just gab on and on, although look at me, I'm rambling, and being a little rude, if you noticed, sorry, I do like that color over there, and finally, do we have any jam?"

Jackie blinked a few times, the expression on her face akin to that of a stunned goldfish.

"Raspberry. In the top drawer."

"Thanks!" and a big smile.

The smile wasn't as large, or as manic, but it was still ever-so-slightly crazed. And while there was another layer between her pain and the world, while she had shed her leather skin, though, if you looked at her, 'loss' was not the first word that popped into your mind – despite all of this, pain was clear. Lurking just beneath the surface, it didn't take long to realize that this woman had seen things and done things that no one should ever have to see or do. She had gained things and then lost them, things that no one should ever be forced to lose. And even though she hid it beneath a bouncy, bubbly, cheerful, chatty exterior, respect was still required. Not by her, just by instinct. She commanded it, despite the fact that she could act like a five-year-old.

And that scared people, especially when she was wearing a suit.

She grabbed the jar quickly, pulled off the lid with a sucking noise, and stuck two of her fingers in, licking the sweet substance off with an absent look on her face.

"Something, something…late for work! Work, yes, work is good, something to do all day, saving the world and all that. Gets me out of the house anyway. Can you imagine what I'd be like if I was home all the time? You would just die."

"Yeah, you should probably be going-"

"I mean, it's dead boring, linear progression from cause to effect, the one adventure I can never have, a real normal life. Domestic! Once you've had something else, you just can't go back! It's like wearing shoes that fit poorly and then wearing some that are perfect for your feet, and then trying to go back to ones two sizes too small. Well, it's actually nothing like that at all. But anyway, I need to go to work."

She quickly slung her bag over her shoulder, cast about for a pair of decent shoes near the door and, finding nothing appropriate for 'business casual', pulled on a pair of black converse.

Actually, they completed her look rather nicely.

Pinstripes were quite slimming.

"Allons-y!"

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><p><strong>AN: This one is shorter, but the next one is really long. Yes, there is a next one. I hate my brain. Thank you for reading, assuming you read it. Although I'm not sure how you'd have gotten down here if you hadn't. Lalala. Goodbye.**


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